


Bonding

by WriteYourOwnEnding



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, How Do I Tag, One Shot, unless the plot bunnies find me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25819198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteYourOwnEnding/pseuds/WriteYourOwnEnding
Summary: Choices need to be made. Unfortunately, Stiles doesn't get to make them.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Bonding

Stiles was exhausted. He’d missed a lot of sleep in the past few weeks, yes, but he was more concerned with the bone deep exhaustion that wasn’t supposed to set in until much later in life. Not by 18. Not before he could legally drink.

His father wouldn’t be home for another 10 or 12 hours. Maybe more. He would probably try to catch a couple of hours on his couch, but he wouldn’t leave the office when so many of his officers were working doubles.

The murders were solved, at least. Stopped. It had cost them a lot of time, and three more dead bodies that the Sherriff now got to explain to the powers that be. At least enough of the deputies were in the know that he didn’t have to try to lie to them. The ones that didn’t know everything…well, they knew enough not to ask more closely.

Fucking Harpy.

It hadn’t always been a monster, which is what hurt the most. It had been driven feral when it’s natural food source had been cut off, and it went mad from hunger and isolation. For centuries the harpies had been adjusting to co-existing with humans, no longer posing a threat to ‘evil-doers’. There were the occasional outliers, of course, that attacked truly awful people that no one missed anyway, but in general they simply fed off wild (usually feral) animals that no one missed. This one, however, was caught in a bad storm that pushed it far away from the rest of its clan, and couldn’t feed on the mountain goats and sheep it had grown up on.

Now, it was so far past the point of no return, even Scott had accepted it needed to die. More a mercy killing than anything.

That acceptance, of course, didn’t actually make it any easier.

Kira was still walking with a limp, Lydia would carry that scar on her hip, and Scott’s ribs were slow knitting themselves together. And worst of all, Stiles had been forced to hold Peter’s guts inside while Derek drained his pain, trying to kick start the healing and let the man live. It had taken 4 hours for the pack to relax even a little, reassured that no one was dying tonight.

Things had not slowed down in Beacon Hills, as he’d been promised. In fact, it seemed that more and more supernatural creatures showing up.

Unfortunately, Stiles knew why. He had figured it out a while ago, and had even determined how to fix it. How to stop it. And it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to do…not like this, at least.

Bonding a Hale to the land wasn’t really a problem. Peter was still too unstable, and too manipulative. And way too smart for anyone’s good. Cora was sick of this town and everything in it. But Derek…

Derek was the ultimate martyr. He’d stopped believing that good things would come to him when he was 16. Stopped believing he deserved good things. Had devoted himself to trying to help others, no matter how bad at it he was. Had always jumped to the front of the fight, always taken the blows if he could. And if this was something he could do, he would, without question.

The problem was, it wasn’t what was best for him. And Stiles had been trying to keep in mind what was best for Derek, because no one else would. He should be allowed to get out into the world. The few months he’d managed to escape Beacon Hills (before the pack dragged him back, regretful but desperate) had been good for him. He’d gotten better, stronger, more centered and focused. Dragging him back here had always been horrible for him. It always haunted him, when he had to deal with the remnants of his family’s legacy.

But people were dying. People were suffering because Stiles was making this decision without even letting Derek know there was a decision to be made. The Nemeton had been connected to the Hale family for centuries. There was a ceremony – one Laura would have participated in when it was time, which would have anchored it to a living, protective pack that would keep it safe.

Stiles sat up, sighing heavily.

This wasn’t his decision to make. And he may not like the decision he knew Derek would make, but he had to let him make it. Derek had lost enough options and choices, he couldn’t take this one away too.

He picked up the phone with a heavy heart.

“Derek,” he said quietly, which must have tipped the older man off that this was a serious discussion. “We need to talk.”


End file.
